


teenage dirtbag

by egaliteoulamort (hockeydyke)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Parenting, F/F, Les Amis de l'ABC - Freeform, Lesbian Éponine, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Prom, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 22:09:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10580484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hockeydyke/pseuds/egaliteoulamort
Summary: "Eponine’s stupid heart beats fast for Cosette, and it’s ridiculous, because Cosette is dating Marius and they’ve become the school’s fucking power couple, so it’s not like seeing Cosette on a daily basis will ever lead to anything more.Cosette doesn’t even know who Eponine is-- Eponine is fairly certain of it. After all, she sits in the back of every classroom, skips class plenty, and hides behind oversized hoodies and long, greasy hair. Sometimes Eponine thinks about what would happen if Cosette actually looked back, thought hard, and recognized her."(or: I wrote an eposette high school au based off a mix of teenage dirtbag and jessie's girl)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by an unholy blend of “Teenage Dirtbag” by Wheatus and “Jessie’s Girl” by Rick Springfield, which are both songs that Mary Lambert has covered, and I highly recommend listening to them on Youtube because she is fantastic. The setting is a high school in the suburbs of a small city somewhere in the US somewhere from approximately 2005-2015. Warnings for mild homophobia and really awful parenting (it's the Thénardiers, so it's to be expected).

Eponine is in the lobby of the shabby old movie theater downtown, bumping shoulders with Montparnasse every so often, waiting for him to finish up trying to win something with the claw machine, when she sees them.

 

She’d been talking his ear off about the movie they’d just seen, some cliche action film that they’d picked because there really wasn’t anything better showing until the big summer hits were supposed to come out. “I mean, it was maybe a five out of ten overall, but it definitely didn’t pass the Bechdel Test-- not even if you stretch the rules.”

 

“The what?” Montparnasse had said, slamming his fist into the glass siding of the machine. Eponine darted her eyes to the ticket booths to make sure no theater employee was headed their way to kick them out. Between the two of them, there were very few places in the city they still weren’t prohibited from entering. Cons of being total white trash, Eponine figured. Whatever. She was used to it.

 

Thankfully, there wasn’t any angry manager heading their way. Instead, she sees Marius Pontmercy and Cosette Fauchelevent headed out of the theater arm in arm, and she ducks behind Montparnasse so they don’t see her, because Marius would want to talk and she’s not sure if she could handle that, because Eponine has a thing for his girlfriend.

 

She’s known this subconsciously for a while-- it’s a big part of why she rarely hangs out with Marius anymore. Something about seeing him and Cosette flirting and talking and kissing makes Eponine hurt. She’s pushed it away until right now, standing in the lobby of the shitty movie theater and considering whether or not she could fit in the small space between the claw machine and the wall, when she realizes that the reason she’s uncomfortable is because she wants to date Cosette.

 

Montparnasse gives her a funny look once the power couple has exited the theater without seeing Eponine, but thankfully doesn’t question it, because he’s a good friend. Instead, he just makes her pay for his next go at the claw machine and gloats when he finally wins the stuffed cat he wanted. They walk home together in silence while Eponine thinks about Cosette.

 

*

 

So, here’s the thing: Eponine knows she’s a lesbian. She’s known since ninth grade, actually, and Marius had kind of been the reason. At least, he’d been the reason she realized she wasn’t into dudes-- and that was because he was really everything she could have wanted in a guy. He was cute, and so kind, and sweet, and well-meaning, and there were a few months where she thought, yes! This is how a crush must feel!

 

But then she spent more time with Marius, and things were edging toward something where she would be expected to do more-- to kiss him, to curl up in bed with him, to do all the things her mother expected that Eponine had already done, if the word _slut_ spat at her when she went out was any indication. And after an achingly terrifying week of deliberation, Eponine realized that she didn’t want that.

 

So she let Marius go, and he started dating Cosette, and over the next few years, Eponine’s gotten her heart dragged around by enough girls that she’s got an inkling of what she is: a total lesbo.

 

She hasn’t told anyone, though (but she thinks Montparnasse knows). Why would she? She knows that her mother singing _dyke, dyke, dyke!_ at her will hurt a lot more than _slut_ ever did.

 

Sometimes she lays in bed at night and wonders if she’s kidding herself. Maybe she’s not a lesbian after all-- how is she to know what real feelings are, or how to understand them? There’s nothing she hates more than the sickening emptiness of the phrase _you are valid,_ but sometimes she wonders to herself if she is. She thinks that maybe she would feel like this is more of a real thing if she told people, but she really doesn’t know how.

 

Instead, she ignores the meetings of the school’s inaugural GSA, even rolls her eyes at the red-faced blond who passed out flyers about it at the entrance of the cafeteria at lunchtime, although she does give a little whoop in his honor when a fight breaks out between him and a couple of the faux-rednecks who harass him a few minutes after she’s sat down with her Wednesday-lunch-special tray of chicken and cold mashed potatoes.

 

It’s not ideal, but she works with it. As long as she keeps her eyes roving over the bulletin board near the gym every morning when she walks by and keeps her gaze from stick-stick-sticking to the brightly colored GSA posters, no one will know.

 

*

 

Cosette moved to their school district during the summer before their sophomore year, into the house next to god-awful three story mansion that Marius lives in with his grandfather. She’s been inside a few times, but Marius’ aunt, or great-aunt, or whatever she is always gives Eponine a look like she’s too dirty to even touch the floors of the place. Eponine isn’t one to put up with that kind of bullshit, so she avoids going inside, sits on the curb out front whenever she wait for Marius to come outside.

 

She stops hanging out with him sometime during sophomore year, anyway, and hangs out more with Montparnasse and his friends instead. She has to put up with a lot more dirty jokes, but she can hold her own with them, and at least they don’t look down on her.

 

But Cosette. God, Cosette. She lives next to Mansion de Pontmercy, in a house that’s nowhere near as big but still a respectable traditional two-story house with a gorgeous porch and a tire swing and a grill. A grill! Sometimes Eponine imagines having a dad who grills chicken on the barbeque instead of grilling street dealers for info about who’s been talking about ratting their little business out to the cops.

 

Cosette lives with her dad and they’re the model of a happy all-American family, provided the model could be adapted to accept that a family could be one skittish Mexican-American dad and his sweet adopted daughter. Not exactly what you’d see in a 50s sitcom, but hey, it’s definitely a family.

 

Cosette herself is probably the best person Eponine’s ever laid eyes on. She wears white keds and patterned socks and skirts that at the perfect place right above her knee and lacy blouses and even better, lacy bras-- which Eponine knows because they had PE together sophomore year and she couldn’t help but sneak a few glances, and, and, and _god,_ Eponine is into her.

 

She doesn’t act on it. Cosette has never shown an inkling of interest in girls, and Eponine has quite a few sources that would let her know if Cosette ever did hook up with one. Granted, these “sources” are just a few girls she’s made out with under the bleachers and in the practice rooms, but between all the closeted girls on the soccer, field hockey, and softball teams, she has a good network of girls who know what’s up.

 

If she cries in the shower the night after Marius asks Cosette to homecoming junior year, then that’s a private thing, absolutely none of your business. And if junior year makes absolutely everything worse because Cosette has finally figured out her makeup routine and gotten a better haircut and wow, she’s even hotter than before? Also none of your business.

 

Worse than her appearance, though, is the fact that she somehow has ended up in a position where she sees Cosette almost every day. Some weird fluke of her schedule, she figures, that her guidance counselor has decided to put her in honors Math and English, which Cosette is also in, and PE again. They’re even in French together, an awful class that Eponine seems to share with Marius, Cosette, Mont, and what seems like the entire GSA.

 

Because of all of this, Eponine not only sees, but _listens_ to Cosette for the first time, and finds out that she is absolutely, positively fucking hilarious, and has an adorable honky laugh that she releases when she throw backs her head after teasing her friends or making a particularly bad joke. She sees the way Cosette knocks her feet against Marius’ under their desks, and the way she waves her hand in the air when she’s excited to answer a question in class. It’s all so fucking _endearing,_ and Eponine hates how excited she gets for the classes they share.

 

Eponine’s stupid heart beats fast for Cosette, and it’s ridiculous, because Cosette is dating Marius and they’ve become the school’s fucking power couple, so it’s not like seeing Cosette on a daily basis will ever lead to anything more.

 

Cosette doesn’t even know who Eponine is-- Eponine is fairly certain of it. After all, she sits in the back of every classroom, skips class plenty, and hides behind oversized hoodies and long, greasy hair. Sometimes Eponine thinks about what would happen if Cosette actually looked back, thought hard, and recognized her.

 

Because Cosette _should_ know Eponine-- the Thenardiers did a brief stint in foster parenting when she was in elementary school, and Cosette was one of the girls who stayed with them, on the top bunk of Eponine’s bed. Eponine used to roll around in bed at night to make it shake and wake Cosette up, because everything about it was wrong. She wanted Azelma to sleep in the top bunk, not this strange girl who barely spoke and always stuttered when she did. But no-- Azelma got the pull-out couch in the living room, and Eponine had to share her bedroom (a very kind way of putting it-- the room had originally been a walk-in closet) with the weirdo whose mom didn’t want her.

 

Eight-year-old Eponine already knew that her family was fucked up in a lot of ways, but at least her parents wanted her. Her mom even talked about putting her in beauty pageants, flipped through fashion magazines while she smoked cigarettes on the broken front porch that Eponine always wanted to re-paint. Look here, she’d say. We could dye your hair blonde and get you some surgery for that nose, and when you’re a little bit older we could dress you up real pretty and make some cash.

 

Yes, yes, yes, Eponine would say, hungrily looking at the pictures of beautiful girls in the magazine. Yes, my mother loves me. Cosette’s mother? Not so much.

 

Such a shame, Eponine’s mother would say, shaking her head at Cosette and waggling her finger at her. Eponine would hide behind her mother’s legs and laugh at Cosette-- she knew that finger meant something bad was coming, and she was glad it wasn’t directed at her.

 

Sometimes Eponine is so pissed about how much of a dick she’d been that it makes her want to scream. She was so fucking mean-- mean to her bones. It makes her want to pace across her bedroom, now in a different part of the city, another tiny bedroom that she shares with Azelma and Gav, when he actually sleeps at home. She wants to pace, to yell, to tear out her hair and climb out of her skin and into someone else’s.

 

But Cosette? She’s never acknowledged it. She only gives brief smiles to Eponine in the hallway, no different from the way she smiles at every other girl in their classes.

 

Maybe it was the trauma, Eponine thinks. She’s read that people who’d endured severe childhood trauma sometimes block out the worst memories, shove them somewhere so deep that they can only be pulled out using therapy or hypnosis and shit like that. That seems reasonable-- Eponine knows there sure is a lot of fucked up from her childhood that she can’t remember clearly.

 

Whatever. She’s doing her best to forget about her dumb crush on Cosette. After all, even if they don’t really hang out anymore, Marius is a friend of hers. It’s wrong to be so infatuated with his girlfriend, especially when she’s trying so hard to be a better person.

 

Even if they broke up, it’d be hopeless. Eponine is a nobody edging closer to an arrest record every day, and Cosette is a beautiful straight-A student who has a house with a porch. She’s not just out of Eponine’s league-- she’s playing a whole different game.

 

*

 

Halfway through junior year, Eponine finally has a decent system down. She wakes up at 7AM when her phone alarm plays a cover of “Come On Eileen” and she has to scramble around in her blankets to find it and silence it before it wakes up her parents. She falls out of bed in a tangle of sheets and shakes Azelma until she wakes up. Sometimes they shower, sometimes they don’t. Depends on if their parents have paid the water bill lately. At the very least they throw on some makeup, get dressed, and grab their bags before getting on their bikes and heading to school. Usually they pick up Gavroche from wherever he’s staying on the way and Eponine does her best to get him to show up to class. It’s a battle: he is very determined to avoid middle school at all costs.

 

When they get to school she and Azelma chain up their bikes at the stand that is, of course, right next to the student parking lot. Eponine stares down the rich kids from the suburbs in their big new cars, doing her best to destroy them with her patent smokey-eyed glare.

 

(Cosette has a car, although she bikes most days, on a disgustingly cute baby blue bicycle with a basket that she puts her schoolbag in. It’s ridiculous)

 

Anyway, the entire thing really rubs in economic class difference within the student population, which is something that blond boy-- Enjolras, Eponine knows now, that’s his name-- has been writing about a lot in the school newspaper lately.

 

They have school newspaper together. That’s new, starts halfway through the fall when Eponine gets kicked out of choir (as it turns out, you can get caught smoking in the practice rooms) and has to pick up a new elective. The only thing that’s free that period is “Journalism & Media,” so she shrugs when her guidance counselor signs her up and starts heading to the classroom in the basement of the building for first period every Tuesday and Thursday.

 

Her teacher is young, might be gay, and swears like a sailor, so they get along pretty well. And, as it turns out, she kind of has a knack for the class. She likes writing for the school paper-- in fact, she’s considering interviewing to be the editor-in-chief next year.

 

What she likes even more is the “Media” portion of the class, which as it turns out mostly consists of film production. They start out by making a few promotional videos to put on the school website, and then they move on to more projects, pausing class every few days to show short films on Youtube. Eponine likes it a lot. She’s sitting at one of the school’s crappy old desktops one day in January, headphones on while she edits a video, when her teacher scoots over in his rolling chair and waits for her to look at him.

 

“Can I help you?” She says, drily. She’s in the middle of something.

 

He shakes his head at her, but it’s in a fond way. “You know, you’re really excelling in this class. Have you thought about college?”

 

Eponine snorts. “No.” College isn’t even on her radar.

 

“Well, if you ever want to consider it, I know of several different scholarship programs for film students, and I could help you with applications.”

 

“That’s cool,” Eponine says, adding another clip to the video she’s working on, hoping that he’ll leave before she loses her cool.

 

“In fact, there’s a film festival near here in a few months that you might want to go to. I went to college with one of the guys who’s showing a short film-- I’m sure he could give you some pointers for your application video.”

 

Eponine entertains the notion while he gives her more information. Forget the whole college thing-- she’d love to go to a film festival. She didn’t really give a shit about the whole artsy, independent movie thing, but she liked people, and she liked making videos about them.

But here’s the thing: even if she did manage to scrape together enough money for a ticket (which would be a stretch, since her part-time job at Subway pays minimum wage and she needs money to take care of herself and the kids), she’d still need to find a way to get to the festival. It’s an hour drive away, she doesn’t have a car, and she doubts she’ll be able to get one by the end of May when the festival takes place.

 

She thanks her teacher anyway, and then goes back to editing her video. Whatever. It’s no big deal. When she catches Enjolras staring at her a few minutes later she kicks his chair and yelps when he can’t stop it from rolling into the desk of the dark-haired boy who sits on his other side. This starts yet another argument between the two, and it serves as Eponine’s main source of entertainment until the bell rings and she has to go to Chemistry.

 

*

 

Cosette, of course, is not only just a perfect student and daughter, but also actively involved in several school clubs, including the prom committee. She is one of the ones who decided that this year’s prom will be retro-themed.

 

“I hate that. Like, why do we have to romanticize the 50s? Extreme consumerism and gender roles to the thousandth degree? I’d rather choke than go to that,” she says to Enjolras one day in March when the prom posters start going up. She is steadfastly refusing to acknowledge the fact that yes, she loves that theme. It makes her think of _Grease,_ and _Grease_ is probably her absolute all-time favorite movie. Better to complain about prom than imagine dancing with Cosette like she’s the Sandy to Eponine’s Danny Zuko.

 

“I know. It’s ridiculous. The only solace I have is in the fact that it’s not Romeo and Juliet themed. That’s what they did at Grantaire’s old school last year.”

 

“Ugh. I hate high school,” Eponine says and turns back to typing up her latest teacher interview for the newspaper, although she takes note of the way that Enjolras now talks about Grantaire with no animosity-- in fact, there’s a small tilt of a smile when he mentions the other boy’s name.

 

God. Eponine thinks. All her friends are falling for each other. It’s cute, but sappy. Whatever-- she and Montparnasse can get drunk and get into trouble on prom night instead. That’ll be just as fun. More fun, even, since she won’t have to spend the entire time watching Cosette.

 

All her plans go out the window when Cosette sees her in the cafeteria a few days after she complained about prom to Enjolras. Cosette is sitting at a fold out table covered in sparkly posters and selling prom tickets. She’s wearing a light blue dress with a pale white collar, and Eponine wonders for a brief second how she always keeps her clothes so smooth and stainless. Eponine herself is wearing ripped jeans and a shirt she’s owned since eighth grade. She took the time to brush her hair that morning, though, and tease a little volume into it, and knowing that is just what she needs to not run away as soon as Cosette meets her eyes.

 

“Eponine!” Cosette calls out, voice clear as a birdcall, and Eponine thinks _shit, shit shit_ as she steps forward to the table.

 

How does Cosette know her name? Oh, right-- she hears it called at the beginning of attendance each class. Okay, Eponine. Play it cool.

 

“‘Sup?” She asks, assuming her coolest wide-legged stance, shoving her hands into her back pockets and rocking back and forth on her heels. God, she hates how obviously lesbian her posturing is sometimes.

 

Cosette flashes her a wide smile. “Are you buying tickets to prom? It’s a retro theme. We’re trying to take the cool aspects of old-school, you know, without all the boring stuff.”

 

“So, like, sock-hops and diners instead of McCarthyism?” Eponine says.

 

“Exactly!” Cosette laughs. It’s not the honk Eponine has heard her use, but it’s an honest laugh, not a polite one. “God, I’m way too much of a socialist for that to work.”

 

This surprises Eponine, and she too laughs before she can catch herself. “How much are tickets?” She asks, feeling herself blush. Thank god for how much foundation she’s wearing.

 

“Thirty for juniors, twenty for seniors. Snacks and beverages are included with admission.”

 

“Does the punch come pre-spiked, or do I have to take care of that myself?” Eponine says, really testing her luck at this point.

 

Cosette shrugs. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I’m pretty sure Grantaire and Bahorel are already planning on doing that.”

 

Eponine is struck by the image of Cosette in her pastel skirts and polka-dotted headbands hanging out with Grantaire, a grimy senior who skips class almost as much as Eponine, and Bahorel, star of the football team. It seems incongruous, but they all are part of the GSA together, along with several other kids Eponine never would have expected to join.

 

She’s been thinking about going to their meetings a lot lately, but she hasn’t done it. She doesn’t know why. It just doesn’t seem realistic to expect that she could get away with hanging out with that crowd.

 

“Well, in that case, it sounds like it might be fun,” Eponine says, pulling out her wallet like an idiot. She pays Cosette in fives and is rewarded with a pink ticket, her name written in Cosette’s loopy cursive on the back. She hates how much she’s going to treasure this ticket.

 

*

 

She considers going to prom in a tux, thinking, mistakenly, that it would be cheaper than a dress, but Montparnasse straight up laughs at her when she tells him that. Of course, laughing makes her tackle him and hold him in a headlock until he agrees to stop making fun of her and help her instead.

 

That’s how she finds herself in possession of a secondhand prom dress from the Goodwill on the edge of the city. It’s a lot nicer than anything she’s ever worn-- even when she was younger and her family had a bit of money. The fact that it has Montparnasse’s approval is the most reassuring part about it, since he’s watched enough _RuPaul_ and _What Not to Wear_ to be a fashion expert, apparently.

 

More than that, it makes her feel good: it’s all black, with decent sized straps and a tight bodice that flares out at the waist and falls to around her calves (“tea length, Ep; it’s called tea length,” Montparnasse reminds her). They even find a pair of black heels that go decently with it, and Montparnasse obtains a pearl necklace that he insists will complete the retro look. Eponine doesn’t ask where it came from, and instead puts it all together for the first time on the night of prom.

 

It’s a warm evening mid-May. Azelma helps her with her hair and makeup, then takes a few photos on her phone once the look is complete. She even parades Eponine out to the living room, where they find their dad and a few of his ‘friends,’ who look her up and down and whistle approvingly. It’s a little creepy, considering that most of them are twice her age, but she appreciates the sentiment.

 

Her mom even takes a few photos, too, and it feels like one big fucking family moment, until she slips a condom into Eponine’s purse and reminds her that she better use it, because she doesn’t want to take care of any snotty babies Eponine might pop out.

 

Eponine thinks that if she ever does have kids-- which seems unlikely-- she’s going to be a hell of a lot better than this to them.

 

Azelma waves to her as she walks down the sidewalk away from their apartment building, heading out of their neighborhood as fast as she can. School is a half-hour walk away, but she’s not riding her bike to prom, so this is the best option she has.

 

*

 

Despite the spiked punch, prom is decidedly not as exciting as every teen movie made it out to be, Eponine decides after fifteen minutes. She’s shown up fashionably late, so the crowd has already settled into a nice groove of awkward dancing and grinding that she can laugh at from the side of the dance floor (read: the gym floor) while she sips at a cup of weak punch.

 

She sees Grantaire, already tipsy, trying to proposition Enjolras for a dance, and Enjolras, looking dashing in his black tux and a blue waistcoat that brings out his eyes, is trying very hard to avoid the dance floor. Near them are a few of the other kids from the GSA, dancing poorly in a circle and laughing their heads off.

 

The strange part: Cosette? Nowhere to be found. Eponine’s never seen Cosette be late to anywhere in her life-- not even their first-period gym class sophomore year, which was decidedly the hardest class to wake up for, ever. Cosette is notoriously early to things-- especially when those things are as important as the prom that she planned.

 

Eponine is worried. What if she got into a car crash on the way over? What if she was brutally murdered? What if she transferred schools and moved to England or something like that?

 

God, Eponine thinks. She really needs to chill. She finishes what’s in her cup and works her way through the crowd to the refreshments table, where she finds Combeferre, one of Enjolras’ close friends, watching everyone with a faint smile.

 

“Yo,” Eponine says, sidling up next to him. He’s wearing a very well-fitted suit that she feels Montparnasse would appreciate. “How’s it going? Why aren’t you dancing with the rest of them?”

 

“Messed up my ankle at my track meet last week,” Combeferre says, motioning down to a boot that Eponine hasn’t noticed. “I don’t dare try to dance with this. I’m letting my boyfriend get it out of his system before I make him come slow dance at my pace.”

 

His boyfriend, Eponine remembers, is Courfeyrac, who is currently dancing in the middle of the little circle of GSA kids. Center of the circle, center of attention-- makes sense for the kid who just finished starring in the school musical.

 

“Very sappy. Cute,” Eponine says, reaching over for the punch ladle.

 

Combeferre puts his hand on her wrist to stop her. “Hold up,” he says, then reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a flask. He checks to make sure no chaperones are looking their way, then dumps the entire thing into the punch bowl and gives it a stir. “Alright, go wild.”

 

Eponine nods her thanks and refills her cup to the brim. When she takes a sip, it’s as deliciously strong as the juice at any frat party she’s ever snuck into at the college in the city, which is definitely enough to get her pleasantly buzzed by the time she finishes the cup.

 

It’s just as she’s tipping the cup back for the last sip, in fact, that shit finally goes down, because that’s when Cosette arrives.

 

Cosette looks like something Eponine’s seen in a dream before, and it gives her a weird sense of déjà vu. She’s dressed in a pale pink, a light contrast to the warmth of her skin, with a sweetheart neckline and lace that goes up past it to her collarbones. Her hair is arranged in a precarious updo, with a few wispy strands falling around her eyes, but that only adds to the charm of the look.

 

As she gets closer, stepping under the dim lights glowing at snack table, Eponine sees what’s caused everyone else nearby to turn and stare at Cosette as she clips across the gymnasium floor: her eyes are red and puffy and her mascara is drip drip dripping in tear stains down her cheek. Her chin is held high and she is ignoring everyone. She isn’t crying anymore.

 

Eponine thinks _wow,_ and when Cosette steps forward and smiles at her, she says “wow,” but what she means is:

 

_I want to hold you and kiss you hard until we both have to stop to breathe and you’ll laugh at the way I gasp for air like someone who’s drowning right before I dive back in for more and I want to take off all your clothes and kiss you some more to watch you squirm and I want to carry  your books for you between classes while we walk down the hallway bumping shoulders and I want to take you to the movies and sit near the back with you so after the lights go out I can climb into your sheet and press against you and slip my hand under your skirt and touch here, and here, and here, until you bite me to keep from screaming, and afterwards we can straighten out our clothes and smooth each other’s hair so we look respectable enough to go out for milkshakes and talk about the film, or at least the parts we did watch, while we play footsie under the table, and I want to say your name and I want you to say my name the same way, and everyone will know that we love each other._

 

And Cosette says: “Hey, are you free next weekend?”

 

And Eponine says: “What?” Because why does Cosette give a damn about her?

 

Cosette reaches over for a cup, ladles out some punch, and takes a sip. When she realizes what’s in the punch she tosses back half the cup with one big gulp, and wow, Eponine has never been as impressed with anything in her life.

 

“I’ve got two tickets to that film festival and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me? Marius and I were going to go together but, well, we just broke up, and Enjolras says you’re really into film, and I’d love to hang out with you more, so I figured I’d ask you?”

 

What Eponine thinks is _what happened between you and Marius?_ And what she should say is _I’m sorry, I can’t go with you because I can’t think of you as a friend and I don’t want to be creepy_ , but what she says is “Yes! I’d love to go!” Because she really can’t think of a way she’d rather spend a weekend.

 

And half of Cosette’s mouth turns up in a silly looking smile and she reaches forward and before Eponine knows what’s happening her hands are clasped in Cosette’s. Cosette’s hands are smooth and dry but warm and Eponine knows her palms are sweating but she can’t bring herself to care too much because an entire wave of warmth has just released itself within her body.

 

“Do you want to come dance with me?” Cosette asks.

 

Eponine glances over her shoulder, seeking some sort of confirmation from anyone that this is real life, but all she sees is Combeferre, who is now locked in the arms of his boyfriend and making out with him. If Combeferre wasn’t the top of their class, treasurer of the student government, and president of both the Chess Club and Debate Team, she’s pretty sure the chaperones would have kicked him out by now.

 

Broken prom rules or not, he’s clearly not going to be of any help to her right now, so she turns back to Cosette and nods, because she’s not sure if she can manage words without her voice jumping high-pitched in her excitement right now. Cosette drags her into the midst of her GSA friends, both of them laughing as they trip in their heels on their way over.

 

It might be the liquid courage, but Eponine actually forgets her normal facade of cool in order to dance with Cosette. They face each other and hold hand while they jump back and forth, pump their fists in the air, and laugh when Courfeyrac starts grinding on Combeferre right there in front of everyone.

 

When the DJ plays a mashup of songs from _Grease,_ Eponine grabs hold of Cosette’s arm and says, “I _love_ this movie so much,” and Cosette grins and they both toss their heels off to the side of the dance floor so they can do the hand jive with their bare feet slapping the floor of the gym.

 

They even open up their circle to include Marius when he finally enters the gym, pale pink tie loosened around his neck, eyes even more swollen from crying than Cosette’s had been. Cosette puts her hand on his shoulder and locks eyes with him for a second, and when he gives her a little nod and a sniffle, she pats his back and steps back to dance some more. Things are okay. Things are great, and Eponine is happy.

 

The magic ends at midnight when the DJ plays one last song (it’s Don’t Stop Believing, of course) and the lights flicker on. The students give a collective groan as they’re ushered out of the gym by the chaperones, but once they’re outside they begin to mobilize for the second part of prom night, loading themselves into cars to head off to various after-parties around the city.

 

Eponine has walked out of the gym with the group she’s been dancing with, but she falls back behind them while they talk about their plans and takes out her phone to text Montparnasse and to see what he’s up to. She’s tough and she has her pocketknife with her, but she’d rather avoid walking home alone this late if she can help it.

 

She’s just managed to get her crappy old phone to turn on when she walks straight into Cosette, who’s stopped right in front of her. Eponine looks up-- she’s followed the group to the student parking lot. Shit. She should make her exit soon, but Cosette is talking to her.

 

“Can you come over with us? We’re having a sleepover at my place. My dad’s there so we won’t be able to drink or anything, but I have a bunch of movies and popcorn,” Cosette gushes, and then she puts her hand on Eponine’s wrist, and shit, that is definitely becoming Eponine’s weakness.

 

“Uh,” she responds.

 

“Awesome!” Cosette tightens her grip and tugs Eponine toward her car. “Enjolras is going to drive us because he hasn’t had any punch, Joly is going to drive everyone else in his car.”

 

Eponine manages to nod, because she can’t bring herself to reconsider any of this. No one will notice if she’s not home, anyway, other than Azelma, but she’ll text her, and everything should be fine.

 

Their plan doesn’t go off without a hitch, though-- Joly’s car, a used soccer mom van that everyone playfully teases him about, has broken down, and Feuilly opens up the hood and messes around for a minute before telling them that it’ll take him 20, maybe 30 minutes to get it in good enough shape to drive them home.

 

Everyone groans and whines for a minute, but then collectively fracture off into smaller groups to find things to do while they wait. Bahorel alone remains with Feuilly, pestering him while he gets to work fixing the van.

Eponine stays off to the side, leaning on a lightpost, until Cosette comes back over to her and gives her a shove.

 

“Um, excuse me?” Says Eponine, glad she’s holding her heels instead of wearing them.

 

“Come on, let’s go to the football field.”

 

“Okay.”

 

They walk over together, and Cosette loops her arm around Eponine’s so they’re walking elbow-in-elbow. When they get to the football field they find themselves among a few couples in various states of post-prom activities and make their way up to the very top row of the bleachers.

 

“You know,” Eponine says, “that they say these bleachers are haunted?”

 

“What?” Cosette spreads her skirt out carefully and sits so that the side of her leg presses up against Eponine’s.

 

“Really! I had to do a bunch of research for a video about the history of the school and I found an old newspaper article from the 80s about local myths and legends, and apparently some football player died here, and if you come out here really late at night you can still see him running around the field,” Eponine babbles, realizing how stupid this story is sounding.

 

“Eponine,” Cosette says, and Eponine wants her to say her name again, so she leans closer and tilts her head as she looks at Cosette, “I’d love to hear all your ghost stories at some point, but I’m trying to be romantic, so I need you to shut up and let me kiss you.”

 

Eponine thinks that this is a good idea, so instead of answering she leans forward and kisses Cosette, missing her mark at first and laughing as she readjusts to fit their mouths together. First they kiss nicely, and then with open mouths, and Eponine discovers how pleasantly _dirty_ Cosette can be with her mouth, but really, how can something that feels so good and so true be dirty? If anything, this kiss is cleaning Eponine’s very soul.

 

They kiss until Bahorel jogs by the field while he rounds everyone up.

 

“Hey, lovebirds! Van is fixed. Let’s go!” He shouts, and they both jump, firstly because they both think it’s the ghost for a moment, and secondly because they’ve been caught and they feel so naked in how new this is.

 

They help each other down from the bleachers, bumping into each other on purpose a few times, and return to the cars hand in hand.

 

*

Cosette’s dad has stayed up late to make sure they’ve all gotten home safe and introduces himself to Eponine, politely inquiring about her classes and her interests. She sees the flash of recognition in his eyes when he recognizes her, and shrinks down, ready to make her escape at any moment, but he simply continues talking to her, not acknowledging the fact that they know each other. Eponine is thankful for this, and understands that she needs to treasure this second chance.

 

He’s clearly met all of the others and he greets them one by one, accepting hugs and fist bumps from a few of them. Eponine is fairly certain that he already knows that Cosette and Marius have broken up, because he gives Marius a polite but terse nod when he passes. Once all the niceties are out of the way he informs them that he’ll be upstairs if they need anything, and that they better follow his rules-- including the ones about the girls and boys sleeping in different rooms.

 

“Papá,” Cosette says, giving her dad a stern little glare before breaking character and laughing a little bit, “We’ve already talked about how heteronormative that is.”

 

“I know, I know,” Mr. Fauchelevent says. “Just entertain my old-fashionedness tonight, okay?”

 

Cosette nods and gives him a hug, then lets him go so he can head upstairs. Eponine is charmed by the entire interaction, and lets Cosette know as much as they all settle down in front of the TV in the living room to watch _Mean Girls_ together. They share a bowl of popcorn and take turns throwing pieces into each other’s mouths, giggling the entire time.

 

When most everyone has fallen asleep, Cosette turns off the TV and drags Eponine up to her bedroom. Eponine’s heart flutters in anticipation, but when they get there, Cosette just offers her a pair of pajamas and dashes off to the bathroom to get changed. Eponine is okay with this-- this is a good pace for her, she thinks.

 

When Cosette comes back she takes her turn in the bathroom, and then they settle into bed, feet tangled together. Cosette falls asleep first and Eponine stays awake with her heart beating fast, too excited about everything yet to come to fall asleep, and she lays there in bed and she curls under the sheets with her face pressed close to the pillow and she thinks, _this is real, this is real, this is real_ , until the words match up with the beat of her heart and she falls asleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to KT for being my beta for this!  
> Comments make me a happy writer, and happy writers write more wlw content :)


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